


Bat Box

by AnonymousTheThird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Bisexual Bruce Wayne, Bisexual Joker, Emotional Constipation, Evil Plans Gone Wrong, Explicit Consent, Groping, Hand Jobs, Joker and Harley's relationship is left intentionally ambiguous, M/M, POV Bruce Wayne, Past Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Smut, Stuck in a Box Together, Teasing, can't believe those last too aren't already tags, get your shit together fic writers, the only forms of their relationship I accept, they're either in a healthy open relationship are just real good buds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 19:45:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19034410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousTheThird/pseuds/AnonymousTheThird
Summary: When one of the Joker's villainous schemes doesn't go exactly according to plan, he and Batman end up stuck in a *very* snug location together for an indeterminate amount of time. It doesn't take long before things get a little... *cough*... you know...





	Bat Box

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it's not too obvious that this is my first time writing smut.

“So,” Joker drawled next to Batman’s ear, “looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.”

He was sprawled partially on top of the vigilante due to the limited space that was available inside the dimly lit cube.

“This is all your fault,” Batman growled.

“You were the one who grabbed onto me when you fell.”

“It was  _ your _ trap.”

“Yeah. And it would have worked great,” the Joker sighed. “I’ve been calling it my  _ Bat in a Box _ . What do you think?”

“I think this is a colossal waste of time,” he muttered.

“Always the pessimist, aren’t we, Bats?” Joker said playfully. “I prefer to think of it as quality time that could be well spent growing…  _ closer _ as enemies.”

_ Far too close _ , Batman thought. While his eyes were only now beginning to adjust to his surroundings, but he could feel the tips of the clown’s hair brushing against his chin. The Joker was lying on top of most of his left arm, leaving his hand far too close to the clown’s thigh for comfort. He didn’t even want to think about the position of the Joker’s knee.

“How long are we stuck in here, anyway?” Batman asked, trying to direct his mind away from it.

“Depends on how long it takes Harley to locate us,” Joker said. “Could be hours.”

Batman groaned. “That’s it. I’m going to need you to move.”

“Hmm?”

“I am unbelievably uncomfortable,” Batman said bluntly. “I need to reposition myself and I can’t do that with you draped over half my body.”

“Listen, Batsy, I ain’t particularly happy with our current positions either,” Joker said, “but you gotta understand there isn’t much room for me  _ to _ move.”

“Please just try.”

“Have it your way.”

Batman felt the Joker fumble for something to lean against before resting his hands on the hero’s shoulders, then push himself up, and, in doing so, brush that  _ damn knee _ right up against his crotch.

Now, to be fair, he could barely feel it through the armoured suit, but apparently it was the suggestion that mattered more than anything. Because there was  _ definitely _ a response from Bruce’s body. This was, without a doubt, THE nightmare scenario. If someone had told him this was all an illusion brought on by Scarecrow’s fear gas, he would have little trouble believing them. Stuck in here for who knew how long with nowhere to move, the Joker on top of him, and now  _ this _ …

He had, over the years, tried to relegate his attraction to the madman to deep within his subconscious, and refused to ever examine it in his waking hours. In his sleep it had plagued him with dreams – which he was  _ not _ thinking about at present – of the Joker pressed up against him –  _ no _ – his bright red lips –  _ nope _ !

“Ya comfortable yet, Bats?” the Joker’s voice came from above him. Batman realised that he was laying completely still, his body rigid. He tried to respond, but his voice was stuck in his throat.

“Batsy?” the Joker said after another moment of silence. “You haven’t suffocated, have you? I specifically designed this box to be suffocation free – though at the time I did only plan for one of us to be in it.”

Bruce’s body felt like a shaken up champagne bottle – the lightest bit of movement, even just opening his mouth, and the cork would come flying out and it would all be over. But all the same, he forced himself to say, “I’m fine,” and readjusted his position.

“You sure about that?” Joker asked.

“I said I’m  _ fine _ ,” he snapped back.

“Yeah, I heard yah,” the Joker said. “And I think you’re lying. What’s happening?”

Batman could still feel the heat radiating from the Joker’s body on his skin, and the pressure of the man’s leg against his inner thigh. He closed his eyes, and started taking in deep, slow breaths.

“Oh,” said the Joker suddenly, and Batman felt his heart stop. “ _ Oh! Oh, no! _ ” He let out a peal of mad laughter. “Oh,  _ Bats _ , if it were anybody else, I’d say you  _ can’t be serious _ !”

Bruce was certain his face had gone completely red. He was immensely grateful for the low light in the box, and hoped it meant the Joker couldn’t see he had roughly the complexion of a tomato.

“Hey, listen,” the Joker said, and by god he sounded almost sweet, “if you wanna, I promise I won’t tell a soul. Yah have my word, as a criminal. What happens in the bat box stays in the bat box.”

_ Hah _ . Like he could trust the clown. Then again, if he  _ were _ to tell anyone, who would be likely to believe him?

_ No. _ He was  _ not _ seriously considering the offer. Except he was. Well, they did say that the first step to recovery was admitting you had a problem. And what better way to face the problem than head-on? Maybe he could just fuck the Joker now and it would all be out and in the open and he could wake up to the horror of the situation and get over it. That… sounded reasonable. Right?

He took in a deep breath, and then, very quietly, said, “Yes.”

There was a moment of complete silence. And then Joker said, “What was that?”

“Yes,” Bruce croaked out, more loudly this time.

“Sorry, Batsy,” Joker said slyly, “need you to be just a  _ bit _ louder.”

“Yes!” he practically yelled. His heart was pounding in his chest.

“Yes,  _ what?! _ ” the Joker yelled back, his voice nearing manic glee. “ _ You’re gonna have to be a little more specific!” _

“FUCK ME, YOU GODDAMN CLOWN SON OF A BITCH!”

_ “THAT’S  _ WHAT I _ LIKE TAH HEAR!” _

He leaned forward, his hand cupped the side of Bruce’s jaw, and their lips met. The sensation still somehow managed to catch Bruce off-guard, and he let out a small gasp, and felt the Joker grin in response. Encouraged, his grip on Batman became tighter, and he pressed deeper into the kiss. It wasn’t a particularly elegant kiss, but it sent a wave of warmth through Bruce’s body, and something in his chest bubbled over. The Joker drew back, biting down just slightly on Bruce’s lower lip as he pulled away, still grinning. Batman gave them both a moment to breathe, then reached up, grabbed the back of his head, and pulled him back in, kissing his lips, then his paper-white cheek, his jaw, his neck. His nose was filled with the scent of the chemicals that had bleached out the man’s skin and hair, still leaving its trace in his pores. As he came back to the Joker’s lips again, he felt a hand brush up, and then grab on to, the crotch of his batsuit.

Bruce let out a moan as his hips moved of their own will, grinding against the Joker’s palm. Joker chuckled next to his ear.

“My god, you’re eager,” Joker said. “Almost like you’ve never been touched before. What, too busy being a broody spandex detective to get lucky?”

“I’m not a virgin,” Bruce said before he could stop himself.

“Sounds like something a virgin would say,” the Joker teased. “But no, I guess you wouldn’t be. You and the Cat been at it before, haven’t you?”

There was a bitter edge to the Joker’s voice when he said that, that Batman didn’t miss. He considered giving a response, but was at a loss for what to say.

“Is it me, then?” Joker said, the cocky tone returned to his voice, and Batman realised he’d missed his chance anyway. “Do you just want me that badly?”

He leaned back in, grinning widely, his fingers tracing a pattern along Bruce’s inner thigh.

“Have you been waiting and aching all this time?” His mouth was next to Bruce’s ear again, and the combination of his voice, words, the warmth of his breath and the feel of his touch were making Bruce’s heart race and his breath hitch.

“Is this what you’ve been thinking of every time we fought?” Joker went on, his voice smooth and seductive, before taking a nip at Bruce’s ear and dragging a moan out of him that was all the answer the clown needed.

“It is, isn’t it?” Joker laughed. “I knew that deep down you were just as  _ fucked up _ as me. Did you go home and toss and turn in your sleep, unable to get me out of your dreams? Did you wake up from them hard as rocks? Did you touch yourself while you looked at all the scratches and bruises I’d left on you? Did you  _ cry out my name _ when you  _ came _ ?”

He kissed him then, deep and desperate, and Bruce, already short of breath, had to draw back much sooner than he wanted to. When he did, gasping in air, he heard the Joker say very quietly, “I did. I… oh my  _ god _ , Bats, you don’t  _ know _ how I’ve ached for you.”

_ I do, _ Bruce thought, through the incoherent haze of his mind.  _ I do! _ But instead of saying it, he clasped his hands on either side of the Joker’s face and finished the kiss he had cut short, lips and tongue moving slow and purposefully as a small, almost sad sound escaped the Joker’s throat.

“Okay – help me out here, Bats,” Joker said, once they’d come apart. “How do I get your pants off?”

Bruce let out a laugh before he could stop himself, which seemed to delight the Joker immensely.

“Look away,” he said.

The Joker made a big show of facing the “ceiling” of the box and covering his eyes, while Batman undid his utility belt and pulled down the top of his pants.

“Hah, I told Harley it was a two-piece suit!” the Joker said once he was allowed to look down again. “Nice undies.” He smirked. “Nice erection, too.”

It was true, there was a very noticeable bulge under the fabric, and for his part Bruce was certainly relieved that it was now out of the suit and free to expand.

Joker’s tongue darted out from the side of his red lips, and then he faltered slightly, seemingly realising for the first time that he wouldn’t be able to reach Batman’s crotch with his mouth.

“You really chose the worst place to get horny for me, you know that?” he muttered, resigning himself to groping Bruce through the thin fabric of his underwear. “Always gotta make things hard for me, huh? Pun not intended.”

“Again, it was  _ your _ t–  _ hnng _ .” Bruce’s rebuke was cut short by an involuntary groan as the Joker stroked a finger over the head of his penis.

“ _ Shh _ , let’s not start that silly argument again,” Joker cooed, a wicked grin on his face.

Bruce  _ did _ regret that the Joker’s mouth couldn’t reach his dick now, if only so that he would shut up. A fantasy of him angrily face-fucking the smile off the madman’s face briefly surfaced in his mind.  _ Maybe another time _ , he thought, before remembering his justification for this was so that he  _ wouldn’t _ want to do it again. Damnit. Apparently, it wasn’t working.

Joker was pulling down his briefs now, exposing his rock-hard erection to whatever constituted as the elements inside the cramped container.

“You don’t happen to carry any lube with you inside that utility belt of yours, do you?” he asked playfully.

“Well…” Bruce said, reaching down by his side and shuffling through the contents for a moment.

“ _ No _ .”

Batman pulled out a small bottle of lube.

“Oh my  _ god _ .” The Joker keeled over, laughing hysterically. “Oh my god, Bats, I was  _ joking _ ! What do you even  _ need _ that for?”

“Lubricant can be a useful crime-fighting tool in a number of situations,” Bruce said, a little defensively.

“Yeah, I’m sure it can be,” he said, calming down a little and grinning suggestively. “You have crime-fighting condoms in there too?”

“Please just stop talking,” Bruce replied, handing Joker the bottle.

To his relief, Joker took it, and after squeezing some out on his hands, got right back to the business of jerking Batman off. Bruce’s mind was quickly overridden once again by the sensation of Joker’s long, slender fingers moving up and down along his shaft, his thumb occasionally rubbing across the tip. Bruce realised that his breathing had become synchronised with the Joker’s movements, his lungs filling as the other man moved upwards, and then emptying out again as his hand headed back towards the base. And they were both, gradually, picking up speed.

Joker was breathing heavily too, and when Bruce looked at him he realised that the clowns eyes were fixed squarely on his face. As their gazes met, a smile spread across the Joker’s face, one completely unlike the crazed grins he normally wore. This one was small, soft, and almost a little awed, as though he was beholding something innately precious to him. Bruce didn’t have long to decipher it however, because the Joker leaned forward again and pressed a kiss into his mouth, and then rested his head against Batman’s shoulder, taking in a long, deep breath as he did. Trembling slightly, Bruce placed a hand to the back of his head, tangling his fingers in the Joker’s strikingly green hair, and then slowly began kissing and biting at the pale skin of his neck. A low moan emerged from the clown, and the stroking got faster.

Batman made short, sharp gasps into the Joker’s neck. As the pressure built to critical, he began thrusting involuntarily into the other man’s grasp. The Joker was using both hands now, circling the tip of Batman’s penis with the thumb of one while continuing to stroke furiously with the other. The tension built up and up and up until finally it boiled over and he came with a cry in the darkness.

There was a moment of silence as Batman’s pulse slowed back down to resting heart rate, followed almost immediately by a knock on the wall to Bruce’s right from the outside of the box.

“Yah all done in there?” came a familiar voice with a distinct Brooklyn accent.

Bruce felt the blood drain from his face, but Joker let out a peal of laughter.

“Harley!” he said. “How long have you been out there?”

“Eh, a little while,” she said nonchalantly. “Didn’t wanna interrupt everyone’s fun.”

There was a creaking noise, and the lid of the box sprang open, letting in a flood of artificial light, followed shortly by all four walls toppling open as the box unassembled itself.

“Woops!” said Harley, when she saw Batman’s pants were still down. She was standing over them in full red-and-black clown getup, a hand on her hip and a smug smile on her white-painted face. “Sorry, shoulda asked first! Two-piece though, is it? Huh, guess you were right Mistah J!”

Bruce pulled his clothes back on with all the silent dignity he could muster, while the two clowns laughed around him. He was immensely grateful that none of their henchpeople were present.

“So, what now, Batsy?” Joker grinned at him, shark-like, once the vigilante got back on his feet. “You gonna hull us back to Arkham?”

Bruce entertained the thought for a moment, and then abandoned it. It didn’t seem fair after what just happened.

“Just keep all this to yourselves,” he said. “But the next time I see either of you, I  _ will _ be taking you back in.”

Harley Quinn and the Joker exchanged a glance and smirked.

“Ya know, I think I may have discovered how Selina keeps avoiding arrest,” Harley said mischievously. “And it ain’t that she’s real sly like she keeps saying.”

The two of them started laughing again, and Bruce left them to it and disappeared back into the night. He needed to go have a shower.

**Author's Note:**

> Harley thought the crotch section came off separately from the legs. “That’s why superheroes always look like they’re wearin’ underwear on the outside!”


End file.
